


The Bond Forger

by zoicite



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoicite/pseuds/zoicite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at how much better it could be if Diana AND Lauren Cruz were around on the show at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bond Forger

“Let me guess,” Lauren said. She tucked the files she’d been searching for under her arm and leaned against the edge of Diana Berrigan’s desk. “Neal Caffrey.”

“What?” Diana asked.

Lauren had noticed Diana’s frown as soon as she’d come around the corner, watched the way Diana’s fingers pushed at her forehead as Lauren approached her desk. Now Diana’s frown was directed up at her, but it softened in response to Lauren’s smile. Lauren didn’t know Diana well, but she’d worked with Peter Burke long enough to know what usually caused an expression like that.

“You seemed upset,” Lauren said. “It seems to me that when you’re working for Peter Burke and you’ve got an expression like yours, nine times out of ten it can be traced back to Neal Caffrey.”

Jones was carefully trying not to look at them from his own desk, his head down as he stared intensely at a pile of papers, but Lauren caught his smile, the slight shake of his head.

“It’s not Caffrey,” Diana said, but the frown was gone now, mostly, and Lauren figured that even if she was wrong, she’d accomplished something by asking.

Lauren sucked air in through her teeth in defeat. “I was positive that was going to be right.”

Now Diana actually smiled and said, “Any other day it probably would have been.”

Lauren glanced over toward Jones. His eyebrows were raised now in warning as though he couldn’t believe that she’d dare to press forward with this conversation. Lauren turned back toward Diana, who was looking at her expectantly but not like she might snap at any moment, not like she was preparing to bite Lauren’s head off. Lauren felt pretty safe when she said, “Hey, you know, I was just about to run out and grab some lunch. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Diana said immediately. “I’m fine. I just – “ She looked up at Lauren then, studied her face for a moment, considered and changed her mind. “You know what, yeah. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

**

“You’ve got Jones terrified of you today,” Lauren said. She leaned over the table ready to discuss conspiracy. “What’s your secret?”

“Jones is a big baby,” Diana said, dismissive. Her mood seemed a little lighter now that Lauren had plucked her from her desk, but Lauren still caught the same small frown when Diana looked down at her plate, pushed at her salad with her fork.

Lauren was pretty sure she should probably let it go, but she’d never been very good at that, at not prying, and eventually she leaned over the table and said, “Let me take a second guess. Boyfriend troubles?”

Diana finished chewing her food as she shook her head. She swallowed and said, “Girlfriend troubles.”

“Over a guy,” Lauren nodded knowingly.

Diana made a face, laughed. “No. Not – I just broke up with my girlfriend.” She said most of the sentence while looking at the table, but by the end she was holding Lauren’s gaze, waiting for her reaction.

Lauren felt her eyes go comically wide and she tried to reign in her expression. “Oh. Oh my God, I’m an idiot. That sounded so – I’m not one of those women, you know. I don’t – I’ve been watching a lot of soap operas lately and – honestly, I’m not one of those ‘my life revolves around my boyfriend’ people. I can’t remember the last time I even -“ She was babbling and she’d failed at the expression reigning also. She thought that at this point she probably looked like a cartoon. She had to pull herself together, get back to the point. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m not very good at this guessing thing, am I?”

“Not really, no,” Diana agreed. She was smiling now. That was something. Even if the smile looked uncomfortable and a little embarrassed, like she couldn’t believe she agreed to grab lunch with this idiot from across the office.

“Had you been together long?”

“Yeah,” Diana said. “Long enough that I don’t think either of us expected it to fall apart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Diana said, shook her head. “Sometimes these things just happen.”

“Yeah,” Lauren agreed. She’d had her own share of breakups. She’d been there. “Sometimes they do.”

**

She was on a rotational program. Start off working with Burke, after six months switch to Agent Flint, then Agent Phillips. Hughes promised her that when it came time for permanence she’d be working under Burke again if she so chose. Until then she was a floater. Agent Flint was a mess, nearly ready to retire, done with the game and just holding on until he could start collecting that pension. Lauren had just been switched to Agent Phillips a few weeks ago and she’d been relieved to make the move. Agent Phillips was turning out to be a little more by the book than Burke, expected things to move a certain way and became flustered when a case, or life, took another course. When the main suspect in a minor art forgery case they were working on managed to skip town, Phillips dumped a pile of files on Lauren’s desk, said “Go though these. Figure out where the hell he’d go.” and walked away.

That had been at ten that morning. It was six thirty now and Lauren was still hunched over the never ending pile reading up on all of the ridiculously mundane details the FBI had collected on this guy. He was no Neal Caffrey, that much she could already tell.

“I’m going for a drink,” Jones said, his jacket slung over his arm. He tapped on her stack of files as though knocking on her nonexistent office door. “You coming?”

“Please,” Lauren said without another thought. “This file is making me cross eyed.” She slapped it shut and stood, grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair.

“Diana’s coming,” Jones warned.

“That a bad thing?”

“No,” Jones said. “Not bad. Surprising. I’ve asked her probably a dozen times and this is the first time she’s ever said yes.”

“There isn’t as much of a rush when you’re going home to an empty apartment,” Lauren pointed out.

Jones shrugged and kept walking. Diana was waiting for them by the elevators and she smiled and pressed the button as they approached.

They grabbed a table at the bar. Jones ordered a beer. Lauren convinced Diana to split a bottle of wine and Jones recounted some ridiculous argument about cufflinks that Burke and Caffrey had been having all afternoon.

“Did you ever think,” Lauren asked, and then she shook her head. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“Oh, not fair,” Diana protested. She refilled Lauren’s wine glass. “Have another glass of wine. Then spill the rest of that thought.”

Lauren rolled her eyes but she sipped the wine and then promptly spilled.

“It’s stupid,” she repeated. “But sometimes I think that if Burke wasn’t married and Caffrey wasn’t a convicted felon – “

Lauren didn’t get to finish because Diana was already laughing.

“What?” Jones asked, oblivious.

“How often,” Diana asked, pointing a finger at Jones now. “How often when Caffrey crosses out of his radius do you pull up the data only to discover that he’s in Peter’s house?”

“What’s your point?” Jones asked.

“The point is,” Lauren said. “The point – Jones, you can’t say you haven’t noticed. Burke and Caffrey are – they’re a little bit in love with each other.”

Diana was laughing harder now, snorting into her wine.

“It’s sad, really,” Lauren continued. “Forbidden love.”

“Stop,” Diana wheezed.

“You’re both crazy, you know that?” Jones asked.

“Sorry,” Diana said. “Sorry, it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny,” Lauren countered. She held up her fingers to show exactly how much.

**

The following morning Lauren was pouring herself a cup of coffee and listening to Caffrey tell Jones about the tricks to winning some card game she’d never even heard of. Neal was leaning on the edge of Jones’ desk, tossing a stress ball that looked like a miniature basketball into the air. Jones was looking at Neal like he didn’t believe a word coming out of Neal’s mouth.

At five minutes to nine, Burke arrived. He greeted Jones, Neal, then he jerked a thumb toward his office. Lauren watched Jones’s face as Neal nodded, dropped the stress ball back onto Jones’s desk, pulled his favorite ‘duty calls’ expression from his bag of tricks, then walked shoulder to shoulder up the stairs with Burke.

Jones jumped a little when the door to Burke’s office shut behind them. When he looked up he caught Lauren watching.

“I hate you,” he mouthed before going back to his work.

**

Day two of her exhaustive file search and Lauren had learned nothing that might lead Phillips to the whereabouts of their missing subject. She was thinking about asking Neal for input. Phillips hated Neal and wouldn’t approve, but if he didn’t know –

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jones and Diana stumbled off the elevator looking like they’d just been put through the ringer.

“Rough day?” Lauren asked. She glanced at her computer. 10 pm.

“Not over yet,” Jones grouched. He leaned over his computer to turn everything off.

“Peter wants surveillance on Neal,” Diana explained. She shrugged out of her coat and threw it over the intern’s desk next to Lauren’s.

“What happened?” Lauren asked, glad for the momentary distraction.

“Nothing yet. The case involves someone Caffrey used to know. He might do something stupid.”

“Same as any other day,” Jones grumbled.

“Late night on Riverside Drive for Jones,” Lauren concluded. Then she thought about it and added, “You know he knows you’re there. You should just go upstairs. You two can have a movie night. Talk about girls.”

Diana smiled. Jones didn’t seem amused. He grabbed a stack of files from his desk, rolled his eyes at them both and headed back for the elevator.

Once he was gone Diana leaned against the intern’s desk and said, “You have a little crush on him.”

“On Jones?” Lauren asked.

“Neal.”

Lauren instinctively pulled back, a move that always made her think of a turtle. “No. Noooo.”

“Really?” Diana probed. “He said –“

“He told you I had a _crush_ on him?” Lauren interrupted, incredulous.

Diana shrugged. “I’m sure he figures it’s safe to assume that if you’re female and even a little bit straight, then naturally –“

“He’s attractive,” Lauren said. “I can admit that. Hey, if he was mute and I don’t know – mentally incapacitated isn’t the right word. I don’t want him unconscious. He just always looks like he’s recording, plotting. I can’t have sex with someone who will file it away and use it to – I’m not sure what he’d use it for, but there would be something.”

“You don’t trust him,” Diana concluded.

“You do?” Lauren asked, maybe a little too incredulous.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Lauren said. “I think he’s good at this and I think it’s good that he’s here. I also think we’d be crazy to truly trust the guy. And no, there’s no crush.”

“Well, he’s not a bad kisser,” Diana said with a shrug. She tapped the palm of her hand with one of the intern’s pencils. “Not that I would have expected him to be a bad kisser.”

Lauren laughed and shook her head, then looked down at the piles on her desk and sighed. “Are you tired?” she asked. “I can’t look at this stuff anymore. I need – what would you say to a drink?”

Diana dropped the pencil back onto the intern’s desk. “Oh, God, yes,” she said and reached for her coat.

**

They were sitting at the bar of a restaurant a few blocks from the office. Over the course of their first glass of wine Diana had gotten up to use the ladies room and when she’d come back she’d pushed her stool just a little closer to Lauren’s. Now on her third glass, Lauren’s second, their knees bumped against each other when Diana laughed. Lauren was ranting about working under Phillips, had been for the past ten minutes. It probably wasn’t as hysterical as all that, but Diana laughed anyway. Diana had been laughing a lot this evening. It was the happiest Lauren had seen her since her breakup with Christy, and maybe it was the wine, but the next time Diana ducked her head and smiled at something that Lauren said, it suddenly hit her. Diana was _flirting_.

Lauren felt her heart race a little at the realization and she tried to take a step back to assess. The wine was buzzing happily through her system and Diana’s knee was now pressed warm against hers. Even before she knew her, Lauren had admired Diana, was impressed by the stories that Jones and Burke had told. In person, Diana was smart, capable, beautiful. In person Diana was flirting with her. And Lauren was no longer sure what she should be assessing other than the fact that she was enjoying this, she was happy here in this moment. She thought that was probably the most important thing. The thing that really mattered.

“I can’t believe - ” Lauren started, changing the subject from Phillips back to them. “How long have you been back in New York now? Months and it took Neal Caffrey to get us really talking.”

“Well,” Diana laughed. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but he is a master bond forger.”

“I think I heard something to that effect, yeah,” Lauren smiled, and when she caught herself smoothing the hair she’d pushed behind her ear she thought that maybe she was flirting just a little bit now too.

“I’m glad,” Diana said. “It’s always been something of a boys club, hasn’t it?”

Lauren made an exaggerated show of rolling her eyes. “You can say that again.”

Diana smiled. Her teeth were just the tiniest bit crooked at the front. Lauren loved that, found it endearing. She’d always had a thing for people’s little imperfections.

Diana lifted her wine glass and the napkin stuck to the bottom of it, traveling with the glass to Diana’s lips then letting go and falling between their knees and catching on Lauren’s pant leg.

Diana set down her glass and Lauren reached down to grab the napkin two seconds before Diana did the same. Their foreheads met in a jarring collision and they reeled back, holding on to each other to keep balance on their stools as they groaned and laughed.

“Graceful,” Lauren said, rubbing her head, her other hand on Diana’s bare arm, just below her tattoo.

Lauren leaned over to determine the fate of the napkin. Diana followed and this time they caught themselves just before a second collision.

“Maybe the napkin can stay down there,” Lauren suggested, looking up to check Diana’s feelings on this plan.

Diana was close, eyes dark, and when Lauren’s lips parted to say the words that Lauren’s brain had yet to formulate, a snappy comeback, a joke, Diana closed the distance between them in a kiss. Diana’s mouth was soft against Lauren’s lower lip, insistent, but not pushing. After a moment Lauren remembered how to move and she kissed Diana back. She could taste the wine on her own tongue, wondered what it would taste like on Diana’s. The thought of taking things that one step further pulled Lauren out of it, caused her to pull back.

Diana opened her eyes and when she saw the look of confusion on Lauren’s face she squeezed them back shut and covered her face with her hands. It was only then that Lauren realized she was still holding Diana’s arm. She brushed her thumb over Diana’s tattoo as she let her hand slide away.

Diana moaned, a pitiful miserable sound, and said, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“It’s okay,” Lauren offered.

“I can’t believe – “ Diana’s hands dropped from her face, one coming to land on Lauren’s knee, squeezing a little as she said, “I’m so sorry. I never – that was the most presumptive, unprofessional – “

“It’s really okay,” Lauren cut in. “Really.”

Lauren covered Diana’s hand with hers, squeezing in reassurance, and Diana fell quiet, staring at their hands together on Lauren’s knee. After a long moment she laughed and shook her head again, slid her hand away and reached for her wine instead. Lauren watched as she downed what was left in the glass.

“You should know that I’m a mess,” Diana said.

Lauren shrugged. “I was flirting too,” she offered. “I kissed you back.”

Diana sighed, rolled her eyes at herself, and then she seemed to actually listen to what Lauren was saying, listen and think about it. She squinted at Lauren and said, “Have you ever done this before?”

Lauren laughed. “Well, I’m no Neal Caffrey, but I think I’m an okay – “

“No,” Diana said. “No, it wasn’t a critique. I just assumed – “

“Once,” Lauren said, catching on.

“Really?” Diana asked, clearly surprised.

“I had this girlfriend in college,” Lauren started.

“Of course in college,” Diana said and Lauren was pretty sure that this time the eye roll was directed at her.

Lauren feigned offense as she held up her hand and said, “Hey, do you want to hear this or not?”

Diana laughed, then waved a hand for Lauren to continue. It was Lauren’s turn now to down the rest of her wine and she set the glass down hard on the bar, her fingers playing with the stem as she spoke.

“I had this girlfriend in college,” she started again, “and for two weeks we had this mad passionate fling. Because – okay, this might be more than you need to know, but I’d never, you know,” she waved her hand around, then remembered that they were both adults and just said it. “Had an orgasm. So here I was my sophomore year at college and my friend couldn’t believe it. She tried to tell me what to do to get myself going, then finally she just reaches between my legs and says, ‘here, I’ll just show you.’ I mean, I’d had one high school boyfriend at that point. And he was lousy in bed. This girl, ooooh this girl got me off.” Here Lauren paused for effect before rushing the last bit. “Then two weeks later she met a football player at a frat party and never spoke to me again. So yeah, I – once for two weeks I did this before.”

Lauren shrugged and lifted her hands to show that she was finished.

“You never tried with another woman?” Diana asked.

Lauren shrugged again. “I guess I just figured it was – well, like you said. A _college_ thing. Six months after this girl I met Charlie – my ex - and we were together for four years before that fell apart. I guess I didn’t really – I don’t know, think about it? That sounds wrong.”

“What was her name?” Diana asked.

“Kirsten.”

Diana nodded and stared into her empty glass of wine.

“I’m coming off as one of those women, aren’t I? The ones with the lesbian fling who grow up and realize that they really loved penises all along.”

“You worry a lot about coming across as a stereotype,” Diana noted thoughtfully.

“Only the ones I don’t like,” Lauren agreed.

“I think you’re coming across as someone who is attracted to who someone is and not necessarily what they’ve got in her pants,” Diana said carefully.

“What? Like bisexual?” Lauren asked, trying the word on for size.

“Maybe,” Diana said. Her voice said she was still trying to be careful. She wasn’t looking at Lauren anymore. “I don’t know.”

“I’m scaring you away,” Lauren guessed.

Diana laughed and Lauren had her attention back, her eyes shining just a little as they studied Lauren’s face. “I thought I was scaring _you_ away.”

Lauren started to shrug for the third time in as many minutes and then realized she was overusing the gesture and shook her head. “I’m having a good time if that means anything. I liked it, the flirting, the kiss.”

“I’m having a good time too,” Diana admitted. “It feels like it’s been a while since I said that.”

Lauren took this as encouragement. She was already regretting pulling away from their first kiss, but she thought that could be fixed. She leaned in and initiated the second. Diana’s hand found its way back to Lauren’s knee and when Lauren smiled into the kiss Diana sucked in a breath, shook her head and pulled back, though her hand stayed.

“It feels like we’re rushing this,” Diana said. “I can’t – I don’t want to rush this.”

“It’s just a kiss,” Lauren assured her.

“I know,” Diana said. “Listen, I don’t want to hurt you, but I said I’m a mess and I mean it. I’m afraid that this is some kind of revenge against Christy, some kind of rebound, or – I don’t know, stress relief? And I think that if that’s what this is I should really save it for someone that I don’t have a professional relationship with. Someone I don’t _like_.”

“I-“

“That came out wrong,” Diana backpedaled. “I mean it. I _like_ you and I don’t think that I’m doing any of those things. I know myself pretty well, but – let’s just move slowly. Make sure this isn’t something we’re going to wake up regretting in the morning.”

“That sounds mature and responsible,” Lauren said.

Diana laughed.

“And I _can_ handle this,” Lauren assured her. She wasn’t a sophomore in college anymore.

Diana looked at her for a long time and then said, “What do you think about a date – a no work talk, no business suit date? You can say no.”

“How about Saturday?” Lauren asked instead.

“Art exhibit?” Diana suggested. “There’s this showing that I’ve –“

Lauren made a face and Diana stopped mid sentence to laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Lauren grinned. “Hockey game.”

Now it was Diana’s turn to pull a face.

“Okay,” Lauren said. “Compromise. How about both. We’ll go to your stuffy art exhibit and then we’ll let loose at the Rangers game.”

“It’s a date,” Diana agreed.

“A date with no work talk,” Lauren assured her. “No Jones or Burke or Phillips. And _especially_ no Neal Caffrey.”

**

Neal had his head in his hands when Lauren approached his desk with her folders. Diana was watching her and when Lauren glanced over, Diana grinned and looked back down at her desk. Lauren had never done this, this flirty office romance thing, and she felt the anticipation of Saturday humming under her skin every time they spoke.

Neal looked strangely like he’d just rolled out of bed. His suit was pressed, as neat as always, but something about him seemed off, something seemed like he’d put himself together with his eyes closed even though Lauren couldn’t lay a finger on what exactly that was. Anyone else would look dressed to the nines. Neal Caffrey just looked off.

“Hard night of partying last night?” Lauren asked. Neal jumped a little at the sound of her voice and then he groaned.

“Jones decided to invite himself over and commandeer my television,” Neal said. “It’s like he’s been taking lessons from Peter. Except without sleeping.”

“It was surveillance,” Lauren pointed out. “He’s not allowed to sleep.”

“But I am,” Neal grumbled. “Or I should be. It would have been the easiest job he’d ever had if I was sleeping.”

“I’m sure he had more fun torturing you,” Lauren offered.

Neal looked up at her exasperated. “Jones gets to take the morning off,” he pointed out.

Honestly Lauren didn’t get much sleep herself, but even now, looking firmly at Neal, she could feel Diana watching her, small glances, pretending not to look, and it felt like a jolt of caffeine though her system.

She cleared her throat and Neal raised his eyebrows and reached for the files in her hand. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I need a favor,” she admitted. It felt like admitting defeat.

Neal was studying her now, really looking, and even though his eyes looked a little red, tired, she could tell he was reading her just fine.

“You look pretty tired yourself,” he said.

“Yeah,” Lauren said, smiled. “Yeah, it’s this case.”

Neal was smiling too. “That’s not the smile of someone who was here all night working on a case,” Neal pointed out.

“Just the case,” Lauren assured him.

Neal shrugged, seemingly uninterested now and said, “So what’s the favor?”

“Have you heard of Eddie Rice? He skipped town a few days ago. Phillips has awarded me the task of finding him and I’ve hit a wall.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Neal said, leafing through the first folder. “I can ask around.”

That was it? No prying, no suggestions that she’d owe him, just instant agreement. Jones should keep Caffrey up all night more often.

“Thank you,” Lauren said. She could hear the surprise in her own voice and she backed away from Neal’s desk before he could change his mind.

**

Lauren made it clear beforehand that she didn’t want some kind of formal dressy date. Lauren choked on formal dates. She tripped over her heals or she spilled food on her dress or she couldn’t decide what to say because nothing she wanted to say sounded polished enough for her date’s hair or their clothes. The art gallery part of the date therefore made Lauren a little apprehensive, had her staring in her closet for a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what was appropriate and she sighed in relief when she opened the door to her apartment to find Diana there in jeans.

Diana took her to a gallery in Tribeca. The artist’s work was colorful, abstract splashes of bright paint on black canvas. Lauren didn’t get it. It looked neon, like a throwback to the eighties, like a puff painted t-shirt that she would have worn in fourth grade. Diana insisted that it was genius.

“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “It still looks to me like it was painted by a kindergartner.”

“Abstract artists don’t usually see the world the same way FBI agents do,” Diana laughed.

Lauren hugged her coat to her chest, watched the way that Diana lit up when she talked about art. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be so into this.”

“I spent a lot of time staring at walls as a kid,” Diana said. “After a while you start to appreciate what hangs on them.”

After the gallery they had time and they walked a while in a general northerly direction.

“Do you feel,” Lauren started. “Do you feel a little like, I don’t know, it feels like we’re doing something wrong. Something dangerous.”

Diana laughed. “Skirting the law to attend artist showings and hockey games?”

“No,” Lauren said. “Just something. You know, secret relationship high.”

“Savor it,” Diana said as she hooked her arm around Lauren’s. “It won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever tried to keep anything from an office full of FBI agents?” Diana asked. She leaned in close as she said it so that they bumped into each other as they walked. “The only person who won’t know about this by the end of the week is Burke. And that’s only because Burke’s preoccupied with Caffrey _and_ his wife is making him attend a dinner party this week. Any extracurricular thoughts at the moment are devoted to trying to get out of that.”

“So he’ll have it figured out halfway through next week,” Lauren guessed.

“Exactly,” Diana said and released Lauren’s arm.

**

“Put your wallet away,” Lauren insisted as she shoved in front of Diana to hand a twenty to the cashier. “That gallery was your thing, this is mine. I’m buying the hot dogs.” She picked up the cardboard tray from the counter and turned to shove it into Diana’s hands.

“You’re a government employee,” Diana joked as the cashier gave Lauren her change. “Are you sure you can afford it?”

“Shut up,” Lauren laughed as she carried their beer, leading the way back to their seats.

“Do you think these are the most expensive hot dogs in the city?” Diana asked.

“I doubt it,” Lauren said. It was New York City. There were probably a dozen gourmet hotdog joints if they actually looked for them.

They ate their hot dogs and they drank and laughed and booed when the Bruins scored, cheered and jumped out of their seats when the Rangers won.

Afterward outside of Madison Square Garden Lauren shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat and said, “I can’t believe that was your first very first hockey game.”

“I’m sure it won’t be my last,” Diana offered with an exaggerated eye roll. She’d had fun, Lauren knew. There was no faking Diana’s laugh. The eye roll was just for show.

“I’m sure it won’t,” Lauren agreed, simply. “I have season tickets.”

They fell quiet after that, the ease of the evening’s banter dying down now that the evening was coming to an end. It had been a long time since Lauren had gone on any kind of date at all and she was having a hard time remembering how someone even went about wrapping up a first date like this without awkwardness. She’d had a good night with Diana. She’d spent the week worried and anticipating and excited and the last several hours had been easy. Kissing Diana in the bar that second time had been easy. There was no reason it should be hard now.

“Listen,” Diana said finally. “I know what I said the other night, about being a mess and taking this slow. I want you to – really, feel free to say no to this, but do you want to come back with me to my place?”

“Oooh,” Lauren breathed, pretended to be scandalized, pretended not to feel what she was really feeling – excited, _relieved_. “Come back to your place.”

“For coffee,” Diana clarified.

Lauren smirked and repeated, “For _coffee_.”

“Too forward?”

“No,” Lauren said, probably a little too quickly. “I’d love some coffee.” She grinned at Diana. “At your place.”

**

Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d done this, just _kissed_. It had been awkward at first, sitting on Diana’s couch. She knew they’d both been thinking about the kisses they’d shared at the bar, wondering what came next.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for anything serious,” Diana said eventually.

“I can do casual,” Lauren assured her, found herself wanting this too much now that she was here to even contemplate slowing things down again. Besides, Lauren had always been good with casual.

In the end she’d made the first move, set her untouched mug of coffee down on the coaster, leaned in and pressed her lips to Diana’s. The first move was all it took for Diana to relax, for Diana to kiss her back. And now here they were, Diana’s tongue sliding against hers, her fingers on Lauren’s sides. Diana had her pushed back on the couch, was leaning over her so that her thigh rested between Lauren’s legs, pressed in a way that had Lauren moving against it as they kissed. Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she was this turned on. It had been a long time.

Her mouth felt swollen with their kisses, her skin tingled under Diana’s fingers. She sucked at Diana’s tongue and felt Diana’s hand slip beneath the waist of her jeans. The button was undone and Diana slid in further. Lauren, so wet now, so turned on by all of this, gasped into Diana’s mouth when Diana’s hand finally found her, finally touched her.

Diana kissed across Lauren’s bottom lip, then pulled away and said, “If you want me to stop, you’ll tell me, right?”

Lauren laughed. “Believe me, stopping is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“Okay,” Diana smiled, kissed her again. “Okay.”

And then Diana’s hands were working at the zipper to her jeans, Diana’s mouth on her neck as the jeans were pushed down her hips. Diana’s fingers hooked into the sides of Lauren’s underwear and slid them out of the way as well. The air of the living room was cold suddenly on Lauren’s skin. She felt goosebumps rise on her legs as she reached for Diana’s shirt, had always felt more comfortable unclothed when she wasn’t the only one. Diana helped her, tossed the shirt aside, leaned in when Lauren guided her so that Lauren could kiss her chest, the tops of her breasts. Diana’s skin was warm beneath her tongue, soft.

Diana’s hand was back, fingers teasing. She was breathing heavy, her head bent toward Lauren’s shoulder as Lauren pressed open mouthed kisses to her skin. Lauren’s fingers fumbled with the clasp of Diana’s bra as though she was some twelve year old boy who’d never touched one before. Finally her fingers, made thick and clumsy by the electricity humming through her body at Diana’s touch, unhooked the clasp and Diana’s bra fell off her shoulders, the straps catching on her elbows. Lauren ignored that, didn’t care as she arched against Diana’s hand, her mouth back where it belonged, on Diana’s skin.

Diana’s fingers slid inside her and Lauren moaned against the underside of Diana’s breast. Diana’s hand curled just right, pressed just right, and Lauren couldn’t concentrate on kisses anymore, leaned her head to Diana’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

“There,” Lauren said, jumped just a little when Diana got it exactly right. She reached for Diana’s wrist, held her there, the palm of Diana’s hand pressed against Lauren’s clit as her fingers, her fingers - “That. Keep doing that.”

Lauren’s head was thrown back now, mouth open, and Diana kissed her, fingers doing exactly as they’d been instructed.

“Oh,” Lauren said around Diana’s tongue, her hand urging Diana’s on. Again, again, there, right there.

Lauren’s grip was tight on Diana’s wrist and when Diana’s fingers finally pushed her over the edge, she pressed her heels hard against the floor, her back pushed into the sofa, her entire body stretching while simultaneously wanting to curl in on itself, hold on to this feeling, keep it from dissipating.

“Oh, God,” Lauren breathed as it began to fade. Diana’s fingers pressed in again, once more, twice, and Lauren shuddered with it, released her grip on Diana’s wrist, had to pull away.

Diana slid off the couch and landed on her knees in front of Lauren. Her fingertips trailed down the inside of Lauren’s thigh. Her mouth followed the opposite path, started at Lauren’s knee as she kissed up the inside of her thigh, and finally one kiss, one taste, light over sensitive skin.

Lauren cupped her hand around the back of Diana’s neck. She needed to kiss Diana again, now, wanted to know how she tasted on Diana’s tongue. She pushed herself away from the couch, slid off to the floor, her knees on either side of Diana’s. She took Diana’s face in her hands, licked into Diana’s mouth. Her kiss more forceful now, a little rough, and when she was ready, she moved her hand to the front of Diana’s jeans, only to be stopped when Diana’s hand covered her own.

“You don’t have to – “ Diana started and Lauren lifted her free hand to cover Diana’s mouth.

“I think I remember a thing or two from college,” Lauren said, leaned in to kiss Diana’s neck. “Let me show you.”

**

“Why’s Diana so happy?” Jones asked Monday morning.

“How should I know?” Lauren shrugged. She was trying hard not to show that she was pretty happy herself, that she’d spent Sunday lying around in Diana’s bed, kissing and touching, learning each other. She tried not to show it but Jones must have caught the suppressed smile because he squinted at her and frowned.

And that was when Caffrey appeared.

“Did Diana and Christy get back together?” Neal asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jones said, still looking hard at Lauren.

Lauren shrugged again and held up her hands. “I don’t have any information on this subject.”

“That means she does, right?” Jones asked Neal.

Neal didn’t answer, just looked Lauren up and down. His eyes were narrowed just a little, up for a challenge, and he said, “You know I can find out what’s going on.”

Lauren crossed her arms over her chest, stuck her nose in the air, just a little, and said, “Not if there is nothing going on.”

“Jones?” Neal asked.

“All I know is last week Diana was on all of our cases. Then these two started getting chummy over what a pain in the ass you are.”

Neal looked both intrigued and appropriately hurt.

“I’m that easy to get over?” he asked Lauren.

“Yes, actually,” Lauren said. “Especially when there was never anything to get over to begin with.”

“She did her Quantico thesis on me,” Neal told Jones, his hands in his pockets as he twisted on his heels.

“I did _part_ of my thesis on you.”

Neal shrugged.

“I remember,” Jones agreed. Then, playing along, he added, “Students love the topics of their thesis – thesises – theses?”

Lauren rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you have work to do? Is Burke not in yet?”

“Oh,” Neal said as though he’d just remembered he left the stove on. He checked his watch and then sucked air in through his teeth. “I was supposed to meet Peter down by his car. Twenty minutes ago. I’ve gotta go.”

Neal started to rush off, then came back to drop a piece of paper on Lauren’s desk, folded as though he’d been carrying it around in a pocket. “Your guy’s on Staten Island. That’s the address.”

“He’s good,” Lauren said. “You’ve gotta give him that.”

Neal paused halfway across the office to regard Diana with a little bow. He must have winked too because Diana grimaced at him before he strode away. At the elevator he turned and looked back, flashed Lauren his wide white and winning grin. It was then that Lauren realized that Neal knew exactly what was going on, that he’d known since Lauren approached him asking for his help, that he’d probably been on to them since their first lunch.

“He’s good,” Lauren sighed again.

Diana looked like she was deciding whether to smile or frown by the time she reached Lauren and Jones.

“How’d you manage to scare him away?” She asked, her thumb jerked back over her shoulder.

Jones just stood there, his expression disbelieving as he shook his head at them both.

“What?” Diana and Lauren asked at nearly the same time so that Lauren’s question sounded like an echo of Diana’s.

“Neal Caffrey drove you to switch sides,” Jones said in awe, the statement clearly directed at Lauren.

Diana’s expression when she turned to eye Lauren clearly read “I told you. By the end of the week.”

Jones was shaking his head again, slowly now. “The power that man wields.”

Lauren turned to Diana, eyes wide. “And he thinks _I’m_ the one with the crush.”

“We bonded,” Jones sniffed and adjusted his suit jacket.

“Oh,” Diana said. “On your movie night?”

“You know, Caffrey doesn’t even _like_ movies?” Jones asked. “He seemed to think I was trying to punish him for something.”

“So you tortured him,” Lauren concluded. It was pretty much what she’d already known.

“Maybe,” Jones said. “But making his night suck as much as mine made me feel like we were comrades, so – like I said, we bonded.”

Diana leaned in toward Lauren until the back of her hand discretely brushed Lauren’s wrist. “Well Neal Caffrey _is_ a master bond forger,” Diana noted.

Lauren turned her hand toward Diana’s, let the tips of her fingers curl against Diana’s palm.

“That he is,” she said.


End file.
